


Symbiosis

by ivefoundmygoldfish (melonpanparade)



Series: Spreading Their Wings [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, M/M, Magical Realism, Mythical Beings & Creatures, dragon!strade, prince!croft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 08:08:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11309262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melonpanparade/pseuds/ivefoundmygoldfish
Summary: It only takes a handful of minutes under the rays of the sun to turn Mycroft into an alarming shade of red, or, as he has found out more recently—and with increasing frequency—one of Gregory’s well-placed, cheeky comments.





	Symbiosis

**Author's Note:**

> As this is part of a series, I recommend reading at least the first one for this to make more sense. This is based off [platypushko's](http://platypushko.tumblr.com/) [fanart](http://platypushko.tumblr.com/post/91165600203/despite-the-sweet-smelling-scent-of-the-lily-of) that she so kindly drew for the first work of this series :'D
> 
> I used the [Eastern dragon](http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/OurDragonsAreDifferent) as my reference - snake-like and wingless. Gregory's large form would resemble this [[1](http://www.thedailycrate.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/03/Haku_Dragon_Form.jpg), [2](http://basementrejects.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/03/spirited-away-chichiro-haku-dragon.jpg)]. In his smaller form, [this](http://saiyuki.wikia.com/wiki/Hakuryuu?file=Hakuryuu_gall03.png).

“Where are you taking me?” Mycroft gasps, doubled over as he struggles to catch his breath.

Although Mycroft enjoys going out with his dragon, even in his small form, Gregory sets a brutally fast pace.

_You’ll see. Just a bit more._

Gregory circles around Mycroft, wings flapping lazily to provide a welcoming, cool breeze until the young prince has recovered enough to stand upright once more.

_Come on! And to think you’re supposed to be the young one here._

“You have wings,” accuses Mycroft.

_And you have legs that work perfectly fine. Perfectly fine legs._

Mycroft flushes. Not for the first time, he laments his pale complexion. It only takes a handful of minutes under the rays of the sun to turn Mycroft into an alarming shade of red, or, as he has found out more recently—and with increasing frequency—one of Gregory’s well-placed, cheeky comments.

_I’m just being honest._

“Honest. Right.”

And that’s another thing he doesn’t think he’d ever become accustomed to—having someone speak their mind so openly, whether it be to him or about him, or a combination of both. Growing up as a prince has exposed him to all sorts of people, many of whom only speak to him with the hopes of reaching deep into the kingdom’s pockets. Gregory, however, has no need for human power or wealth. There’s no sugar-coating; actions are done and words are spoken because he honestly means it. It’s refreshing. Different. But more often than not, utterly embarrassing.  

_Is that a sliver of doubt I hear? I could compose a song of praise if you need convincing. Let’s see: oh, legs that are fine, like your shapely behind—_

“Gregory!” Under normal circumstances, Mycroft would be interested in hearing Gregory sing. After all, the smooth, melodic voice is most pleasing to the ear. Still, he doesn't think he can make it through one more line, let alone an entire song about his... attributes, at least not without his face bursting into flames.  

 _Yes?_ He cheerfully hums a few more notes, then his ears perk up. _Do you think Sherlock would accompany me on that fiddle of his?_

“Heavens, no,” Mycroft replies instantly, eyes wide with mortification. “Perish the thought.”

_Don’t worry, I’m joking._

“Thank goodness for that.”

_After all, some of the things I want to say aren’t fit for children’s ears._

And if Mycroft’s face wasn’t bright red before, it certainly is now for reasons that have little to do with the sun or exercise.

“Have you no shame—mmmph.”

The sudden weight of Gregory settling on his shoulder is familiar and welcome. The wing pressed over his face, muffling his words and impeding his vision, is not. Instinctively, his hand is raised to pry Gregory’s wing away from his face when the dragon stops him.

_Wait, not yet. Take, hm, ten steps forward—ah, big step here ‘cause there’s a log. Right, now shuffle a bit to the right._

He leads Mycroft for another five minutes and then brings them to a halt. _Okay, we’re here._

With his vision returned, Mycroft can fully appreciate the sight in front of them—the place his dragon has chosen to share with him. 

_I thought a spot under the weeping willow would be good. Shade and all. I mean, you can read your book without getting sunburnt, and there’s a beautiful view of the lake in the foreground and mountains in the background and—_

“You’re right,” Mycroft reassures, recognising Gregory’s tendency to ramble when he’s nervous. Given the easy confidence he generally exudes, this side of him awfully endearing. “It’s lovely. Far enough from the castle to relax without being interrupted, too. Now I understand why you urged me to bring my book.” Mycroft gently strokes the tail draped around his neck, all the way down to his chest. “Perhaps you would like to—”

Before Mycroft can fully articulate his suggestion, his dragon has transformed. The accompanying gust of wind causes the leaves around them to rustle pleasantly, and ripples extend from the shoreline, reaching out into the lake as far as Mycroft can see.

_Way ahead of you._

Mycroft smiles, taking a moment to marvel at the large, wingless, four-legged dragon in front of him. Out of Gregory’s three preferred forms, he sees this one the least, simply because the immense size is too noticeable to be inconspicuous around the castle grounds. On rare occasions like today, he relishes every moment of it, thanking whatever deities orchestrated the unexpected circumstances that brought the dragon into his life.

 _Come, let’s sit,_ Gregory says, situating himself at the base of the willow tree’s trunk.

Once Mycroft is sitting cross-legged with his back reclined against the dragon, Gregory gently flicks his tail in and brings his head closer, his body forming a protective circle around the prince. He playfully nudges his snout against Mycroft’s knee before resting his head on the lush grass.

“You’re a magnificent creature, you know that?” Setting his book down on his lap, Mycroft reaches for the ear closest to him and strokes the soft, downy fur covering it. “Thank you for sharing this place with me.”

Gregory rumbles appreciatively, and the gentle vibrations passing through his body tickles Mycroft’s back. It’s an odd sensation.

 _Wake me up when you’ve finished reading,_ Gregory murmurs, and then the eye visible to Mycroft slowly slides shut.

 

* * *

 

He doesn’t remember falling asleep, and he certainly doesn’t remember snuggling up to Gregory. Knowing how insufferably smug his dragon would be if he ever found out, Mycroft sits up, carefully tucking away the warm feelings of safety and affection washing over him from being ensconced in the protective circle of Gregory’s body. Looking at their positions, he chuckles softly at the role reversal – usually it’s the small dragon curled up against him in the early hours of the morning, unconsciously chasing the warmth whenever Mycroft moves away.

_Mmmph, Prince Phillip?_

The large tail twitches in the grass, yet Gregory’s eyes remain shut.

Mycroft snorts. “Do you mean to infer that you are Sleeping Beauty?”

_The one and only, eagerly waiting for true love’s kiss to wake me up._

“Then you shall be waiting forever.”

_Drat. Maybe I should go back to sleep, then, since my dreams are more pleasant than reality._

Raising an eyebrow, Mycroft says, “Very well, I will leave you here to do as you wish.”

 _You wouldn’t dare._ As Mycroft moves to stand up, Gregory outstretches a strategically placed leg, causing Mycroft to stumble and fall back against his scales. With utmost innocence, he adds, _Oops._

“You play dirty,” Mycroft accuses as he rights himself, but the corners of his mouth are upturned in amusement.

_I can talk dirty too._

“Gregory!”

The dragon laughs, a low rumble that starts deep in his belly and comes out in uneven huffs. He allows himself a moment to calm down before taking pity on the poor prince, who looks like he’s spent the afternoon in the sun, what with the way the red flush has steadily crept up his neck, reaching to the tips of his ears.

 _Though maybe I’ll save it for another time._ Judging from where the sun hangs low in the sky, they have approximately another half hour before it dips below the mountains and greatly reduces their visibility. _For now, we’d best leave here before nightfall._

Welcoming the sudden change in topic, Mycroft switches his focus to their surroundings. His mind is already sketching the towering mountains, the willow’s leaves drooping over the water, the endless ripples in the lake into his memory, but his heart—his heart is busy carving out an alcove just for today. Wistfully, he asks, “We will come here again, won’t we?”

_If that’s what you wish, my Prince._

“I do.” Content in the knowledge that this won’t be their last time here, Mycroft squares his shoulders and straightens his back. Gregory reverts to his small form, settling himself on his usual perch on Mycroft’s shoulder, preening tenderly at a lock of Mycroft’s sleep-tousled hair. “Well then, shall we return home?”

 _Yeah, home sounds perfect._  

**Author's Note:**

> I don't think I'm quite done yet with this series—after all, Gregory's human form hasn't been given enough attention! 
> 
> Also, just realised that this is my 50th work posted on AO3 - so a huge thanks to everyone who has supported me so far with kudos, bookmarks, and comments. I really appreciate it!! :'D
> 
> Other (rare) updates and fic recs can be found on my [writing tumblr](ivefoundmygoldfish.tumblr.com).


End file.
